Smells like Christmas

My hands smell like pine.  This year we decided to get ourselves a real Christmas tree and leave the plastic one in the attic.  I guess we kinda missed the experience of going and choosing a tree. We kinda missed the piney smell in the house.  The constant sweeping up of pine needles in the house.  The daily watering of the . . .  we decided to have a real tree again.

We went to Lowe's and asked our kids if they were excited to be getting a tree this year.  Both answered, "no."
They wanted to know why we couldn't use the artificial tree.  None of the kids remember ever having a real tree so I'm not sure why they were so quick to object.

As we tried to choose the best shaped tree Meredith was selecting the shortest trees.  She didn't want it to be taller than her.  Randy was pretty hands off during the selection period.  He declared having a real tree too much work.  Brenna was mostly asleep in Cari's arms when she wet herself.

With the perfect tree for our house loaded in the car we made our way to Chick-Fil-A for peppermint chocolate chip milkshakes.  As we waited in line Cari said it was such a great night.  Choosing a tree as a family, the smell of the pine, the peppermint milk shakes, the getting peed on. . .

Well, except for the part of getting peed on.

I'm glad my hands smell like pine.